By Aaron
We fade up on Tony fucking Valentina. Or, to be somewhat more precise, we fade up on a spot approximately six inches above Tony fucking Valentina. And for that small courtesy alone, I already love this week's director (Allen Coulter) way more than Mr. Mike "Fuckwit" Figgis. The very instant that he's finished, Tony rolls over, sits up, pulls on his boxers, and heads straight for the bathroom. For her part, Valentina also sits up, and then flashes some nipple before pulling on a robe (why? Because whores show their tits. Madonnas show their asses). "Are you hungry?" she asks, heading for the kitchen. As he does with everyone, Tony replies by insulting her, and then immediately pulls back with an apology (see: way too many examples to link). Valentina, however, remains undaunted, offering to cook up some "egg beaters and Tabasco." Then she suggests that they spend a few fun-filled days at a Sandals resort in the Caribbean. Except Tony totally thinks the place is called "Sneakers." Heh. He's also not real thrilled with the idea, even after Valentina gives the following foreshadowing-heavy description of the place: "The air is the same temperature as your body, so you don't even need to wear clothes." Isn't that how burn wards are set up? Noting that Tony's about to be divorced, Valentina whines in a highly unflattering fashion that all she wants is a little attention. Valentina's sleeve has been hanging over the gas burner throughout all of this, and with a quick poof, her robe suddenly bursts into flame (see: kitchen fire, which will be important in a minute). Because she's wearing a cheap kimono and not an officially licensed terrycloth bathrobe, the fire soon engulfs her entire body. She screeches and wails and runs around the apartment until Tony finally remembers his third-grade fire-safety course and manages to throw a blanket over her. Hey, has he always had that tattoo on his hand?
Elsewhere in New Jersey, Angelo has decided to pay Diet Tony a visit at his casino. He's also brought along his eldest son, presumably because we're not allowed to whack people on this show anymore unless we humanize them first. Diet Tony escorts them both into a back room where we learn that the son is into "architectural salvage," just like Sanford & Son. Heh. Angelo proceeds to hand over an envelope filled with cash, explaining that it's yet another chunk of the money they owe him for the Joey Peeps hit. "It's embarrassing," he explains, in reference to the partial payment. "But that's the way Little Carmine and Rusty are doing things over there now. I'm sorry, but Rusty? I think he bangs his wife in installments." Hmm. Let's see. 6\% interest, compounded monthly since late December back in '63, that comes to...oh. Sorry. Never mind. Diet Tony insists that he did a "clean job," and then gives an Angelo a hug and tells the kid that the best part about being in prison was hanging out with his old man. Wow. That's definitely one of the weirder compliments you're ever going to hear. But Angelo hasn't quite finished yet. He pulls a little wooden plaque out of his pocket and presents it to Diet Tony. It reads, "Because I'm the boss, that's why." Now is that a Gleason reference of some kind, or just a subtle hint that Little Carmine's crew would like to see Diet Tony take over out in New Jersey? I guess it doesn't really matter either way. Diet Tony loves his new tchotchke, and promises to place it "in a position of prominence." Which turns out to be a dark corner in the back room, between the water heater and a bottle of cleaning solution. I thought that was sort of odd, because it makes it seem like he's snarking on Angelo's gift, and sort of undercuts the murderous rage we're supposed to assume he'll be feeling later in the episode. You know what else was odd, by the way? There's the constant sound of someone coughing and hacking just outside the room throughout this entire scene. I can only assume that's because they couldn't get Burt Young to come back for the dead guy montage.
Tony goes to visit Valentina in the hospital, and they've got him all decked out in surgical scrubs and a cute little shower cap. Valentina, however, doesn't look cute at all. She's all bandaged up, with burns on her face and arms. She's also obviously heavily drugged, because she thinks Tony is the doctor who's going to be operating on her. She's worried about her hair, but Tony assures her that it will all grow back normally, and that she'll "look the same as [she] always did." "Fuck you," replies Valentina, in what may be her only lucid line of the entire scene. Because we're also trying to humanize Tony now after his outbursts last week, a nurse shows up to tell him that visiting hours are over, so he doesn't have to look like a dick for leaving on his own. "I'm gonna take care of everything," he promises. "The doctor bills, a wig, whatever." Well, if it's a wig she needs, I can think of at least one extra that Tony may have lying around.
Angelo, meanwhile, has gone shopping at a [product-placed chain store] and purchased some sort of oversized toy tractor for one of his grandkids. Heh. As soon as I saw that, I knew he was a goner. It's too big to fit fully in the trunk (unlike Angelo himself, but more on that in a minute), so he just drives off with the lid flapping in the breeze. Incidentally, would you like to guess what's playing on his car stereo? Yeah. It's "Peanuts," by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons. Oy. I think it's possible that this entire episode was conceived with the sole purpose of driving me insane. Or maybe just giving me carpal tunnel. Ow. As Angelo cruises down the darkened streets of wherever the hell he's supposed to be right now, another car appears behind him and starts honking frantically. Angelo waves them by, and the car does swing out to pass. But then it cuts right back in front of him and slams on the brakes, leading to a minor fender-bender and much annoyance from Angelo. But here's my question: how on Earth would he not recognize Phil Leotardo's car? I mean, EVERYONE knows what Phil drives, right? Phil and his brother Billy hop out of Phil's car and spin some yarn about Johnny Sack wanting a sit down. Angelo is no fool, so he refuses to get into the car with them, and instead offers just to follow them to Johnny's place. That doesn't do him very much good, however, because Billy whips out a garrote, and drags Angelo by the neck over to Phil's trunk, which has been helpfully pre-lined with some clear plastic sheeting. They load him in, punch him a few times to get him to stop struggling, and then Phil pulls out a pistol with an attached silencer. "You couldn't fucking retire?" asks Philly Batts, as he pumps a pair of slugs into Angelo's head. And I sure do hope that plastic sheeting is bullet-proof, because otherwise Phil would have just blown up his gas tank and everything else in a fifty-foot radius. Anyway, Phil closes the trunk, and then whines to Billy about the damage from the fender-bender. "Look at this shit," he gripes. "You know the work I just had?" Heh. And also, hmm. Is that giant spare tire on the trunk supposed to be another fat joke?
Livia's house. Tony wanders about in his own flame-retardant robe, searching for the morning paper. Unfortunately, the new maid has tossed it in the trash, which we all know is just about the worst mistake she ever could have made. Oops. Given what happens later, this is also probably supposed to demonstrate that Tony doesn't know yet what happened to Angelo. Knowing that she made a mistake, the maid has also made some enchiladas as a peace offering, and Tony manages to control his rage just long enough to thank her in an almost polite tone of voice.
Cut to Tony, carrying the enchiladas over to Diet Tony's house. Heh. He doesn't even bother to say hello when DT opens the door, but just hands over the tray and heads inside. He also demands his money, claiming that he needs to collect directly from Diet Tony because Carmela is watching Tony's finances. Uh huh. Diet Tony sees right through that excuse, asking if Fat Tony is still planning to buy a "wave-runner." "I'm moving to the Plaza," he explains. "That fucking house is falling down around my ears." Then he bitches about his maid for like six million billon hours. "So fire her and get a new one," suggests Diet Tony. Fat Tony: "This is the new one." He slumps down in a nearby armchair (in an unconscious imitation of his body language in Melfi's office) and starts reciting a litany of woes, beginning with the fact that he's spent the last few nights in the burn ward with Valentina. "She's laying [sic] there like a rag doll," he complains. "And that smell, that burning hair smell. I can still smell it." Diet Tony, however, doesn't even seem to be paying attention, as he grumpily sorts through the detritus of toys and comic books that his kids have left scattered all over the living room. He also looks like he can't wait for Fat Tony to shut up and get the hell out of there, so it's not much of a surprise when FT leans back and asks for a "Coke or something." Too lazy to get it himself, Diet Tony calls out for his mother to bring the beverages. She's upstairs, however, and so Diet Tony's forced to holler for the kids to come up and fetch the annoying visitor a carbonated refreshment. "Are you all right?" wonders Fat Tony. "I just got the kids up my ass, that's all," answers Diet Tony, without also mentioning that he's moments away from going on a murderous rampage. This scene makes a lot more sense on the second viewing, by the way. Tony's still not done chatting, though. "You come across any burn victims in that hospital in the can?" he asks. "Sure," replies Diet Tony. "Aryan guys are always setting each other on fire." Hee!
Tony whines some more about Valentina, calling her "a constant pain in [his] ass," and asserting that he was planning to break up with her that very evening. "Why the fuck does this shit always happen to me?" he wonders, raising a Spock-like eyebrow on Diet Tony's face. And it's only about to get worse. "You know who I've been thinking about lately?" he asks. "Charmaine Bucco...she's a fantastic cook. She's better than Artie in some ways." Hmm. Are there ways in which it's possible to NOT be better than Artie? "Plus she's a licensed notary public," he adds, like it's equivalent to winning the Nobel Prize or possessing the ability to tuck her legs behind her head. A lot of the people I work with are notaries, and even though most of them hated this episode, they all loved that line. "I'm thinking this is the kind of woman I need," Tony adds, which I guess explains why we've been getting all those high school references this season. "I mean, it almost worked between me and her, right?" Before I can fully recoil in horror from the mental image of Tony and Charmaine having sex that I didn't know at this point would be made a thousand times worse and included in the episode for real, the Blunder Twins wander into the room, and Diet Tony starts chewing them out. Finally recognizing his cue, Fat Tony leaves without ever getting that Coke he asked for, and Diet Tony just shrugs and goes back about his business.
A low-angle shot of the horse-drawn carriages that ply the roads around Central Park leads us to the sight of Tony, arriving at the Plaza Hotel in his own Cadillac carriage. "The Lawrence wedding?" asks a valet. "No," replies Tony. "I'm actually here for an affair. The Singleman party." Just kidding. Instead, he simply asks the guy to shut up and park the car. "Long term or short term?" asks the valet. "Can't you just park it?" gripes Tony, which pretty much answers the valet's question anyway. Tony hops out of the car, and hands over a tip, asking the guy to keep the car out of the "horse shit" nearby. Then he heads inside, accompanied by the mellow stylings of the Plaza's regular harp player. Apparently Miss Lawrence is marrying our old friend Foreshadowing, because Tony wanders past a group of bridesmaids getting their pictures taken in the lobby. He finally ambles his way over to the check-in desk, where he's told that even though he's paying cash, they'll still need to see a credit card. He hands one over, and while the clerk is scanning it, Tony looks up just in time to see Melfi come through the door, laughing and telling someone named "Jill" that whatever she just said was really funny. Dammit. Now I really want to know who "Jill" is supposed to be, because I'm assuming it's not Jilly Ruffalo. The clerk hands the card back, thanking "Mr. Petraglia" for his business, and Tony looks massively relieved that Melfi didn't come over and blow his cover. Although, what's up with "Petraglia"? What ever happened to Mr. Spears?
Tony heads up to the room, where he checks the view and thanks the bellman for his help. The bellman's name, by the way? Jesus. It's definitely not actually Jesus Rossi, though. The bellman leaves, and Tony makes himself at home, which he largely accomplishes by putting out pictures of his kids. Then he takes a shower, and relaxes on the bed in his robe.
After a few moments of silent contemplation, he pulls out the phone and dials up Charmaine Bucco. She answers, but he doesn't say anything, so she just assumes that it's a prank call and hangs up. Does no one have Caller ID in the Sopranos universe? This leads into an extended Kubrickian montage of Tony "Robe 9000" Soprano eating dinner and looking bored as he's isolated in the suite. It culminates with him perched on the edge of the bed, flipping through the channels on TV while the flaps of his robe come dangerously close to sliding apart. Oy. For the love of God, my friend, DO NOT open the pod bay doors. Another click of the remote brings him to an ad for the "Jade Escort Service," which offers to introduce customers to the "gentle pleasures and mysterious ways of the East." How is it that I can get a high definition DVR out here in Pittsburgh, but I can't get the Hooker Channel? Man, I'd never have to leave the house. Tony gives a quick "Why not?" shrug, and then picks up the phone to call. Heh. I hope he actually manages to talk this time, although I'm sure the girls at Jade are used to hearing heavy breathing.
Fade to later, as Tony wheels his room-service tray out into the hall. He's still got the robe on, and he notices a fresh copy of the New York Times laid out to a pair of shoes by a neighboring door. Tony being Tony, he quickly scampers over and steals the paper before bolting back into the room. We've already discussed the significance of newspapers, so this time I'll just tell you to see this show's eternal and inexplicable shoe fetish. I wonder if David Chase dreams about Imelda Marcos and Chuck Jones? Oh, and here's a fun little tidbit: When Googling for "Trump Shoe Stalker" half the hits on the first page come from "stalkers" on our very own forums discussing The Apprentice. Hee hee!
Back in the room, Tony is quick to notice that his message light is blinking. It's Silvio, calling with the news about Angelo's death. And yeah, while it's a nice touch to have Tony get the information just as he's finally laid hands on a newspaper (as well as the upcoming contrast with Diet Tony's strict communications discipline, I still don't believe that a hotel voicemail is the only way Silvio would have to get in touch. Especially not when Tony is about to come right out and say that he's got his cell phone with him. Anyway, Tony immediately realizes what the ramifications of this hit might be, so he dials up Diet Tony's cell.
And I swear to you all, if I never hear "We Are the Champions" again for as long as live, I will die a happy man. Bitter, alone, and most likely on fire, but happy nevertheless. Diet Tony, however, seems to be enjoying the tune, because he just lets the phone ring without picking it up. He's in the car, by the way, driving to an (as yet) unknown destination, and his voicemail explicitly states that no one is to leave messages on that phone.
Tony angrily hangs up, and immediately dials the casino. A nice old lady named Dot answers, and tells him that she hasn't seen Diet Tony all night. He orders her to have him call as soon as he comes in, and she cheerfully agrees. It doesn't sound like it, but her response was actually pretty funny. Tony's call is to Aunt Quintana, who also hasn't seen Diet Tony since he left with the kids that morning. "Call me if you hear anything," demands Tony, and then he hangs up on her while she's still begging to be told what's going on. And surprisingly enough, that's as close as we're going to get to exploring Tony's feelings about his mother this week. His final call of the night is to the Bing, where Paulie answers and becomes the third person in a row to have no idea where Diet Tony is. Their conversation is interrupted when the hooker arrives, and you can almost hear the sleazy smile on Paulie's face when he asks if Tony has "company." The hooker heads off to fix herself a drink while Tony wraps up his conversation by observing that Diet Tony was "acting all squirrelly" when he visited that morning. "I got a bad feeling about this," he sighs. "Don't worry about it," replies Paulie. "He ain't that stupid." Obviously, Paulie has never seen an Ewok. He has probably has, however, seen the same sort of cellulite-riddled ass that Tony gets an eyeful of as the hooker bends over check the mini-bar. I wonder if he's trying to catch her in the rye?
Whew. Well, we've finally made it to the dream sequence, kids. But before I continue with the recap, there are two things I'd like to say. First, this episode doesn't need to be recapped as much as it needs to be annotated. Secondly, it should be obvious by now that "The Test Dream" isn't testing Tony as much as it's testing you and me. Especially me. Because here's the thing: if you watch religiously and you "get" the show, it's easy to appreciate the brilliance of the dream sequence. If you're just a casual viewer, however, who doesn't catch all the references and nuance, I can totally see why you'd think it was a giant waste of time. And please, don't assume that I believe not "getting" the show is a bad thing, because it's David Chase's responsibility to make sure that you do. That said, I think a lot of the "jump the shark" outcry we've heard this week comes from people who never made it past the surface superficiality of seeing twenty minutes spent inside Tony's head when we could have been watching Billy Leotardo's brains getting sprayed all over Hackensack. I mean, let's consider the reaction of a random, everyday Sopranos fan. You know, like, oh say, maybe...Keith Olbermann. Now, Keith was kind enough to quote my recaplet on national television as part of the ever-burgeoning plot for world domination represented by our unholy MSNBTWoP alliance, but then in his very sentence somehow managed to prove that he never understood a single word he said by asserting that Aristotle would have disapproved of this episode because the Rules of Tragedy forbid the late introduction of a "new" character like Tony's high school football coach. The problem with that, of course, is that one of Tony's very first issues in one of his very first sessions with Melfi in the very first episode of The Sopranos was the shame he felt over not having the makings of a varsity athlete. So Coach is actually about as old a character as you can have, but only if you've seen every episode ten times and written a fifteen-page recap of nearly all of them. Ahh, Keith. You were so good back in the day. And now? Now you're 206.
"You want me to suck your dick now baby?" asks the disembodied voice of the Jade Hooker. "Is that what you want, baby?" And so it begins. Tony is lying asleep in his hotel bed, but the voice awakens him enough to roll over and check to see who is beside him. As anyone who's ever watched Six Feet Under can tell you, the only person we can be sure it isn't is the hooker herself. In this case, it's Carmine Sr., and the shock sends Tony scrambling out of bed to crawl across the floor in his boxers. "Tony, I'm so lonely," complains Carmine. "I miss my Violet." "What violin?" shrieks Tony. Heh. He could have just as easily said "What violence?" you know. There are plenty of people out there who would certainly agree with that sentiment. The "Violet" in question, of course, turns out to be Carmine's wife, whom I don't believe we've ever met. "She was everything to me," Carmine wails. "I'm all alone on the other side. It ain't right." I don't think I need to throw in a link for you get the subtext on that one. Carmine turns his attention to the phone, which starts ringing a second later. Tony reluctantly crawls over to answer it, and it's here that his light blue boxers and flabby naked gut almost perfectly create the image of a baby in diapers. "If it's him," says Carmine, "tell him you ain't seen me." "Tell who?" asks Tony. Carmine: "The man upstairs." Rumor has it that the voice on the phone here is actually David Chase's, so I guess the God analogy is appropriate. "We need you to do something," explains the voice. "Our friend. He's gotta go." "No problem," replies Tony. "Don't fuck it up," adds the voice. "It's important." "I know it's important," agrees Tony, and then he slowly hangs up the phone.
Cut to Melfi's office, where Tony is dressed in a suit and relating the details of his dream. Or is he? We're watching this from just over Melfi's shoulder, and those of you who are on a second viewing and know exactly what to expect might spot the fact that Melfi's hair seems to be much longer and darker than normal. Her voice is the same, however, and even though we don't see her, she does pepper Tony with questions about the experience. "It was just a dream," he insists, and it's on that line that we finally cut to the reverse and see that Melfi's spot has been taken by Gloria Trillo. And my God have I missed Annabella Sciorra. She's easily the best thing about this entire episode, and that's saying quite a bit. "He must be in heaven," says Tony of Carmine. "But it was so fucking sad." "Doesn't sound like heaven to me," she replies. Tony: "Well, you would know more about it than I do." Gloria just stares at him silently after that line, as the tiniest hint of a pitying smile crosses her lips (why? Because suicides don't go to heaven). "What did you ever see in me, anyways?" he asks. Gloria: "The object is to learn what you saw in me, not what I saw in you." "One of these days, Alice," replies Tony, with a huge shit-eating grin. "One of these days..." "Pow!" she finishes for him. "Right in the kisser!" "I remember when you hit me," she continues. "It was like 'Pow, to the moon.'" Then she crosses her legs way more sexily than Melfi ever did, while Tony keeps up the Honeymooners banter by warning "Alice" not to "get [him] steamed." "And then, you choked the shit out of me!" she exclaims, as they continue laughing riotously at this little comedy routine. "Yeah, but that's after you tried to put a fork in my eye," explains Tony. "No!" she shouts, delivering the big punchline (pun intended). "That was your mother!" Tony executes a massive spit take, and eventually their laughter settles back into a comfortable silence. "You know," he observes, "sometimes what happens here is like taking a shit." As expected, Gloria replies that she prefers to think of it as more like childbirth. "Maybe it is more like childbirth," he agrees. "You tell me." "I don't have any children," she replies. "I died too young. Oh, and I was also seriously batshit crazy, but that's beside the point." Okay, she doesn't really say that last part, but this part of the scene does seem to conveniently forget just a bit that Gloria was never really a saint to begin with. After Tony comments that his cousin does a mean Gleason impersonation, we suddenly cut to a shot of him standing right in front of her, leaning in for a kiss. Unlike Melfi did in exactly that spot, Gloria puts out a finger to stop him. "Are you ready for what you have to do?" she asks. "No sweat," he answers. "I did my homework." She lowers the finger from her lips to point at a television across the room, and Tony turns to see his car dream from last season playing on the screen. I should probably mention that Gloria was in that dream, too.
And now all of us are in that dream, because we're right back inside the car. Tony remains where he was in the back seat, but this time it's his dad doing the driving. "You want to ride up front?" asks Johnny. "No, Dad," answers Tony. "I'm fine." James Gandolfini's little-boy voice is perfect, by the way. "Kid gets sick in the back seat," explains Johnny, as he hacks and coughs and smokes a cigarette. I could have sworn somebody once said that about AJ on this show, but I can't find it anywhere in the recaps, so no link for you. Also in the front seat, incidentally, is Big Pussy. He just turns to look back at Tony without saying a word, and then Tony looks over at the other side of the back seat and sees Mikey Palmice staring out at the scenery. "You know, douchebag," snarks Tony. "I realize I'm dreaming." "I got no opinion one way or the other," replies Mickey. Johnny lights up another cigarette in the front seat, and then Mickey is suddenly replaced by Artie. I actually cheered out loud here, because I thought no one living had ever sat in that seat and I was totally getting my hopes up that the remainder of my existence on this Earth would be Bucco-free. And then I remembered that Svetlana sat there last year. Sigh. I'd have linked that one straight to my own dreams, if only I could. Tony, however, looks shocked as well, probably because he was thinking the same thing I was. "Where are we going?" he asks. "We're driving you to the job," replies Joey Pants, who has now taken Pussy's place. And there's that wig again. As soon as Joey finishes his sentence, Tony looks out the front window and sees that they're pulling into his driveway. The rear-projection method they're using for the exteriors around the car totally makes it look like we're driving right into the opening credits. Which is probably exactly what they intended.
Cut to Tony inside the house, looking disheveled in a brown track suit. Music that the closed captioning describes as "suspenseful" and I describe as "jangly and annoying" plays in the background. He wanders into kitchen, where he finds Carmela all decked out in a fancy black suit. "Jesus, you scared me," she complains, before chastising him for not being ready yet. "We gotta meet Finn's parents." Then she asks him if he's really going to wear that track suit to the meeting. "Well, my stuff isn't here," he sighs. She reminds him that he left a brown suit, and then reminds him again that they're late. "I had the worst fucking dream," he whispers, looking distracted. Carmela: "We should take separate cars." Yeah. Because the last time he had this dream, she was in the car with him. And we all know how that turned out. Tony glances over at the TV on the counter, and notices that it's playing a scene from Chinatown. "Gimme a minute," he protests, as Carmela tries to shoo him upstairs. "Can't you pull yourself away for once?" she shouts. "Your head is filled with this stuff." "It's just that it's so much more interesting...than life," he replies. "What are you kidding me?" she snots. "It is your life." The movie on the TV suddenly changes to A Christmas Carol (and not, as I mistakenly identified it in the recaplet, A Christmas Story. Sue me, I'm Jewish), except that Scrooge's housekeeper's first line is partially dubbed into Spanish, presumably to remind us of Tony's own new cleaning lady. I think the Ghosts of Tony's Past and Present are pretty clear in this dream sequence, but I'm not sure about the Ghost of Tony's Future. Is it the death of Phil Leotardo? Or his dalliance with Charmaine? You be the judge. "Will you please get dressed," begs Carmela, but Tony just echoes Gloria by pointing back to the TV.
At this point we hear a doorbell on the soundtrack, and the TV changes to show Carmela in the front hall, primping in the Front Foyer Mirror of Love. Tony joins her in the shot, and so now we're watching them on our own TVs, through their TV, and reflected in the mirror, and that pretty much makes literal all the space-time warping "meta" jokes I was cracking earlier in the season. The best part is that the scene on their little TV is even properly letter-boxed. Thanks to whoever in the forums pointed that out, because my TV is already widescreen, so there's no need for letter-boxing. I never even would have noticed. I'm betting the hall of mirrors thing is also probably a "Funhouse" reference. Tony helps his wife into her fur coat, and then we cut back to see the two of them watching all this themselves on the TV in the kitchen. Ow. My head hurts. TV Tony (who is finally wearing that brown suit) says that it's time to go, and then Kitchen Carmela announces that she'll wait in the car. TV Carmela repeats that same line, but when TV Tony moves to follow, he's brought up short by a pain in his mouth. He reaches a finger in there to feel around, and then TV Tony becomes Hallway Tony so that we can better see the bloody and disgusting tooth that he spits out into his palm. Ew. Carmela calls back to him one last time, and Tony (now TV Tony again) collects himself and heads for the door.
Vesuvio. Charmaine saunters over to greet them, looking quite a bit more sexy than usual. As she leads them to the table, however, Tony spots a TV over the bar that's playing High Noon. Gary Cooper gets obscured by a pillar as Tony keeps walking, and then he finally looks up to see Meadow, Finn, and his parents seated around the table. "We were getting so worried!" exclaims Meadow. "We were about to start checking the hospitals," adds Finn. Oy. Shut up, the both of you. Or should that be "wake up"? Meadow introduces Finn's parents, and Dad is played by John "Detective Vin Makazian" Heard, and Mom is played by none other than Annette Bening. People have been speculating all week about why Makazian is the one playing Finn's dad, but I'm going to go out on a limb and speculate that it's nothing more than the simple Vin/Finn thing. Plus it can't really be any of the dead wise guys, so he was probably the best choice. Although Wide Guy would have been a hoot. Everyone settles into their chairs, and small talk about Vesuvio ensues, with Carmela revealing that they grew up with the restaurant's owners, and confirming that she and Tony were high-school sweethearts. Then Annette Bening asks Tony how long he can stay, and he replies that there's something he needs to take care of. "Show them what you have in your pocket," prompts Carmela, and Tony bashfully reaches into his suit and pulls out the bloody tooth. Everyone leans in to stare at it, looking very impressed. "With a husband in dental school," says Tony to Meadow, "he'll be able to fix your mouth, honey." Hmm. That pretty much has to be where that shot of Tracee from the HBO website was supposed to go. I wonder why they cut it.
Tony starts to tell another joke, beginning with, "And then for the capper..." Get it? Do you? Ahh, dental humor. Always so incisive. It amazes me, however, how common the loose-tooth dream actually seems to be. I've spent way more time than I ever wanted to on dream interpretation websites this week, and teeth are by far one of the most common requests. Who knew? Besides everyone having the dreams, of course. Tony spits out yet another tooth, and then Annette Bening says that they "know all about" him, and "think that it's great." "Well, that's a relief," sighs Carmela, and I definitely don't have a hard time believing that this would be one of Tony's deepest anxieties. "Speaking of dental school," adds Annette, "people always told us that Finn would never amount to much." "He won't," replies Carmela, and it's here that Finn is replaced by AJ for one quick shot. Heh. "I think the die is cast," she continues, and then Makazian and Annette start bickering about keeping the family secrets. While that's going on, Charmaine comes over and thrusts her breasts into Tony's face as she grinds pepper onto his salad. After a moment or two of awkward silence, Annette turns to Meadow and asks if she plays an instrument. "I was in Chamber Singers," she answers, and Makazian adds that he used to sing in the Navy Glee Club. And once again, I remember a line about that, but I just can't find it in the recaps. Makazian suddenly breaks into an a cappella rendition of "Three Times A Lady," and yes, it goes on absolutely forever. At first everyone looks happy and amused, but eventually boredom sets in, and you can actually see them wondering when he's going to shut up. I have to give props to Edie Falco's plastic happy face, though, because it's absolutely perfect. While the singing continues, Tony is suddenly struck by a thought, and he leans back behind Carmela and taps Annette on the shoulder. "You're Annette Bening?" he asks. She nods like he's a crazy autograph seeker, and Tony laughs and says, "I thought so." He's totally proud of himself for getting it, too, which is good, because apparently a lot of people didn't catch it until then anyway.
Just when you think Makazian is about to stop singing, he launches into yet another verse, and now everyone is really starting to look uncomfortable. Tony leans over to tap Annette on the shoulder again, and this time she angrily snaps, "What?" Tony glances over and sees Artie pointing off to the side through the tiny kitchen window, and then looks back to Annette to say, "Something bad is going to happen." The song finally comes to an end, with Makazian serenading his wife directly, and Annette Bening's eye roll is a thing of beauty. "Huh," he sighs, before continuing: "After I sing I can usually use a nice tinkle." Heh. Tony says he'll join him, and then Annette looks over at Carmela and announces, "I don't want my husband coming out of there with just his cock in his hand." "Me, either," agrees Carmela. I wonder what the significance of changing "dick" to "cock" is supposed to be. You know there's no way that's just a screw-up.
In the men's room, an attendant is watching the same small television that the Sopranos have in their kitchen. On it we see Tony and Makazian's feet entering the bathroom, and then we pull back to see their entire bodies entering the bathroom. Makazian heads for the urinals, but Tony steps into one of the stalls to look behind the toilet tank for a gun. Heh. That's the only reference in the entire episode that my parents actually caught. I suspect it was like that for a lot of viewers. Tony then moves to a urinal of his own, and much pissing ensues. "You don't do this no more?" he asks. "No," replies Makazian. Then he asks Tony if he's going to be able to "come through on the thing." "I did my homework," insists Tony, pulling out a copy of The Valachi Papers. In case you're too lazy to do your own homework, the book was written by a low-level mobster back in the '60s, and it's considered to be the first real exposé of how the mafia worked in America. It also may or may not be a sign that someone is planning to rat. Makazian sets the book on a shelf above the urinal, and mutters that the piece wasn't behind the toilet. "Well, this is real life," answers Tony. "No it's not," says Makazian, as gunshots shatter the window above them. "This is it."
And then we cut to something that actually is happening in real life, even though it's still happening in Tony's dream. Diet Tony is firing away at Phil Leotardo in his car in the middle of a crowded city street. Tony pushes his way through the crowd, and finally gets to the front, where he has a clear view of the action. "I knew this was going to happen," he says. "Why didn't you stop him?" shouts a random civilian from the assembled crowd. Tony tries to pull out a gun and do just that, but he doesn't seem to be carrying one at the moment, and ends up just checking his pockets in vain. Battered and bloody, Phil Leotardo staggers out of his car, stumbles a few steps across the pavement, and then collapses to the ground. It's ridiculously over-acted, and yet no less hilarious, and then Diet Tony looms over him, cocks a finger, and whispers, "Bang." "You have any idea what you just did?" asks Fat Tony. "Why don't you tell them what happened twenty years ago," replies Diet Tony. In one of the hands-down funniest moments of the episode, Phil Leotardo puts his hand up from where he's lying in the street and waits to be called on. A reporter runs over and sticks a microphone in his face, and Phil grumbles, "What do I gotta count to before I can get up?" Hee! The reporter turns around to ask Tony, and it's Gloria again. Yay! "You're really dead," replies Tony, proving that he's smarter when he's asleep than when he's awake. Sort of. "But I got kids," complains Phil. "They got kids." And again with the humanizing. Can't we just have raw, wanton violence anymore? This is America, goddammit! An unidentified black male speaks up from nearby to say, "Yo, wasn't that Tony there the guy you were supposed to cap to prevent this from happening?" "I don't know," answers Fat Tony. "I guess not. I don't have a piece." This is all intercut with shots of the crowd watching attentively, and then Annette Bening raises her hand to be called on. "There's something Bugsy about him," she announces. We get a quick shot of Melvoin (of all people) in the crowd, and then Tony turns and runs away in fear. And just for the record, I went over the crowd shots with a fine-toothed HDTV comb, and I didn't see anyone else from the cast (past or present) that I recognized. No Jackie Jr. for you.
Suddenly it's night, and Tony is running down a darkened alleyway. From a window in one of the nearby buildings, a Lee Harvey Oswald-esque sniper takes a quick pot shot at him, and then we see the crowd from earlier chasing him down the alley. Only this time, they're led by Carmela. Heh. Do you get it, by the way? Tony being chased by an angry MOB? Yeah, I thought so. It gets even funnier, though, when the crowd is replaced by some angry townspeople, wearing lederhosen and carrying lit torches. Hee hee! Who doesn't love lederhosen? Tony looks up to see an ominous black SUV parked at the end of the alley, with some bass-heavy rap music blaring from inside. The song? Cypress Hill's "Insane in the Brain." Well, at least it wasn't "Working My Way Back To You." Given the hints dropped about his upcoming reconciliation with Carmela, that wouldn't have really surprised me. Tony slows to a stop in fear, but then Artie Bucco appears from a adjacent doorway, and beckons Tony to follow him. Damn. And I was just starting to like this dream.
Cut to another car, still at night. Tony is in the passenger seat this time, and Artie is driving. He does that signature hand to forehead move he's always doing, and then complains that he's "wiped out." Before Tony can answer, he hears a belch from the back seat, and he turns to find Richie Aprile and Gigi Cestone back there. Gigi looks good. Richie's put on some weight. It must have been that sausage grinder. Tony turns back to Artie and asks, "What the fuck are you doing to yourself?"
Then we're suddenly back in The Plaza, where Tony is fucking Charmaine while Artie does some, er...back seat driving. So to speak. The soundtrack here is dominated by the sound of a horse's hooves, for some reason, which Artie explains away by referring to the carriages we saw earlier. "It's...so...much...better than when we were kids!" shouts Charmaine, and I really could have died a happy man without ever seeing this scene. In fact, I think I'm going to go run "We Are the Champions" on an endless loop on my iPod for a while. I need a brain cleansing. "Oh!" exclaims Artie, "She likes it when you rub her muzzle." And that, of course, is exactly what Tony said to Carmela when she first met Pie-O-My.
And speaking of our old pal Pie, here's Tony, sitting astride his horse in the middle of the Soprano living room. "I think I want to come home," he proclaims, looking down at Carmela. She's relaxing on the couch, and she gets in some sneaky dialogue recycling of her own by replying that "there are some non-negotiable conditions." The first of those conditions is that Tony "can't have [his] horse in here." Except she totally says "whores" and not "horse." Heh. "Why not?" he wonders. Carmela: "Are you kidding me? The smell? The shit all over the place?" Tony: "I'll clean up after her." Carmela: "You always say that." Ack! So much subtext, so little time! Tony decides that he'll think about her terms and conditions, and then Carmela snarks that he's the one who brought it up in the first place. Yeah, but she's not exactly slamming the door on the idea, now is she? "I should go," says Tony, checking his watch. "You didn't take care of that?" nags Carmela. Tony unzips his jacket to reveal that he's finally found a gun, and then in a highly impressive display of equine acting, Pie-O-My backs up, turns around, and starts to head out of the room. You know, this scene kept bothering me for some reason, and it wasn't until the third viewing that I finally figured it out. That's actually not the Soprano living room, and I don't think it's even a room anywhere else in their house. I'm assuming they couldn't get the horse onto the set for some reason, so they just built a different one and used that. That is a damn fine horse, though.
Cut to a high school, Tony wandering through the deserted hallways. He stops in front of a trophy case, and angrily scans the awards as he attaches a silencer to his gun. Then he's suddenly in a dark and dingy basement, wandering through what looks to be a locker room of some sort. He eventually finds himself approaching a well-lit office, where a guy who could never ever be anything but a high-school football coach is working at a desk. Tony raises the gun to shoot, but suddenly the coach speaks up, shouting, "I know you're there, Soprano." Tony lowers the gun and enters the office, ignoring the coach's exhortation to "do it" anyway. The coach sizes him up once he steps into the light, and then notices the gun in his hand. "What's that," he asks, "a bigger dingus than the one God gave you?" Heh. And it's not half as big as the dingus of his Carmela keeps locked up in the closet. And she's not afraid to use it, either. Coach laughs and calls Tony a dumb-ass, and Tony replies that the coach had best show some respect, because Tony's not a kid anymore. "No," says the coach. Heh. Was that another fat joke? The coach reminds Tony that he tried to pull him away from his mob friends when he was still in school, and earns triple bonus points for managing to use the words "cleave," "bums," and "pissmeyer" all in the space of sixty seconds. Tony chooses, for some reason, to answer that by announcing that he's in therapy now. "That's a damn shame," replies the coach, before claiming that Artie was the worst of the bunch back in school, and that he kept warning Tony to stay away from him. Woohoo! Now that's a man after my own heart. "Artie owns a restaurant now," Tony tells him. "He's doing great." "Bucco?" laughs the coach. "So what? The exception that proves the rule." Hmm. Would that be the dumb-ass rule? "I suppose you blame it on your father when you're crying to that shrink of yours," continues Coach. "No, more my mother," answers Tony. Hee!
Coach makes a crack about Tony having his psychiatrist wrapped around his finger, because that's what Tony was always good at back in high school. Then he stands up and adds that he also told Tony that "most likely, [Tony would] take the easy way out." "I see you on TV," he continues. "That's some show you put on." And now we're really through the looking glass, aren't we? But Coach is actually talking about the news, which Tony takes as a reference to his mafia career. "I am a leader," he insists. "I got a house worth a million two. Two kids, a wife." "Do you?" asks the Coach. "Have a wife?" "Yeah!" shouts Tony. "She's got the big house, because I'm successful." Um, I don't want to rain on your parade or anything Tony, but Carmela's got the big house because you're unfaithful, not because you're successful. "You know, I only told you I wanted to be a coach because I liked playing ball," yells Tony. "But I was just shining you on, because that's what I do." Coach starts ranting that Tony was special, and how he had "leadership potential," but Tony just raises his gun again and gets ready to shoot. When he pulls the trigger, though, the gun falls apart and the bullets go crashing to the floor. He frantically tries to scoop them up and reload, but the bullets literally turn to shit in his hands, and he starts coughing and choking at the fumes. "You're not prepared!" shouts Coach. "You'll never shut me up!" Shout-out?
Except we actually will shut him up, because Tony has finally woken up. He's alone in his bed at The Plaza, and like he always does after a bad dream, he staggers to the bathroom and washes his face.
When he comes back to the bedroom, his phone is ringing, and the clerk tells him that there's a "Mr. Mantovani" there to see him. "Send him up," replies Tony, and then he pulls on a robe and heads for the mini-bar to fetch a snack. And what does he settle on, you ask? Yep, that's right. Toblerone. Sometimes I amaze even myself. He cracks open the little triangular box, but there's a knock at the door before he gets a chance to take a bite. Setting the candy down, Tony checks the peephole and then lets Christopher into the suite. Chris, of course, is there to deliver the news that we all knew was coming: Diet Tony tried to whack Phil Leotardo. Unfortunately, however, he only managed to kill Billy Leotardo, and Phil is now in the hospital, recuperating from getting "winged." And also from having his little brother die in his arms. Christopher's description of this event is quite vivid, and all the little details do make me question whether he might have been there to witness it. Or possibly even to cause it. I doubt that's the case, however. Although I will admit that the hopeful tone in Christopher's voice when he promises to be there for Tony and "whatever" he might need (i.e. killing Diet Tony) does make me wonder. "I don't know what to say," sighs Christopher. "I guess [Diet Tony's] fucked, poor guy." "'Poor guy'?" replies Tony. "We're all fucked." Christopher decides to make his exit, but before he goes, he asks if Tony is going to eat the Toblerone. Heh. The box, incidentally, now has the "T" oh-so- symbolically missing from the label. Tony tells him to take it, and then just stares off into space until Christopher leaves.
Once he's alone again, Tony heads for the window and looks outside. Then he climbs back into bed and picks up the phone. Instead of pranking Charmaine again, though, this time he's calling Carmela. "Don't get alarmed," he tells her. "I just gotta cancel the fishing trip. Tell AJ." Ahh, there we go. Finally! You know, it's just not The Sopranos if they don't mention fish. They're both too sleepy to hang up, so they just lie there in silence for a moment. Then he tells her that he had another "Coach Molinaro" dream. "Oh yeah?" she replies. "Were you unprepared as usual?" Heh. Carmela is sort of curious to know whatever became of the coach, and she also points out that he really took an interest in Tony. "Yeah, but a lot of that was bullshit," he claims. "Just his way of keeping me from causing trouble, to make his life easier." If I could link back to the earlier pages of this recap, I'd point out all the other revisionist history that's been going on tonight. But I can't, so instead I'll just report that Tony says that he told Coach in the dream that he was sort of a coach himself now. "Yeah, that's a way of looking at it, I suppose," answers Carmela. Hee! "Is it daylight where you are?" he asks, staring out the window. Carmela cranes one eye open, and reveals that it's not. Then she asks where he is, which is probably precisely what Tony was hoping for. "Looking out at Central Park," he says. "All the lights are on." He starts to tell her about her own role in the dream, but stops short just before he gets to the horse/whores part. "Is Artie all right?" he asks. "Because in the dream he was the only alive guy in this car full of dead guys." Sigh. Hope springs eternal, I guess. Carmela tells him that she ate at Vesuvio the night, and Tony is quite happy to hear that she was only dining with Rosalie and Mrs. Little Stevie. He also hears a dog barking in the distance, and asks if it's "Esterhaz" or not. "It's 5:30 in the morning," he complains. "Someone ought to serve him some veal. À la strychnine." Carmela laughs, because she's too tired to realize that her husband just threatened an animal, which is highly out of character, to say the least. "I'm serious," he insists, as the screen fades finally to black. "Is it light where you are yet?"